


Hip Check

by little0bird



Series: When Jack's Heart Stopped [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Hockey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 07:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18615862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little0bird/pseuds/little0bird





	Hip Check

Jack never saw the puck hit the back of the net, nor heard the siren announcing the goal.  All he knew was Bittle was down. He stood frozen, stick clutched in his hands. 'Bitty,' he whispered.  The next thing he knew, he was charging down the ice, growling profanities in French, ready to drop his gloves and knock the shit out of the defenseman who'd hip checked Bitty.  It was completely out of character for him. He hadn't earned the nickname "Hockey Robot" for nothing. He didn't fight as a rule in the Q, and at Samwell managed to keep his cool on the ice for the most part.  Ransom managed to catch up with him and shoved him hard on the shoulder. 'Goddammit, Jack! You can't!' Ransom shouted. Jack barely heard him over the roaring in his ears. 

 

Jack jerked his shoulder from the grasp of the referee.  'Okay!' he yelled, skating over to Holster, who had another Quinnipiac player in a headlock.  'Stop it, Holster!' he roared. 'We need you for the next game.' Holster angrily shoved the Quinnipiac player back, and retreated to the Samwell bench.  The arena erupted in cheers. Jack turned to see a shaken Bitty skate off the ice supported by Coach Hall and one of the trainers. Jack's heart was in his throat.  Bitty looked dazed, his face scraped raw on one side from the collision with the ice. The Samwell players banged the ice with their sticks until Bitty had disappeared into the bowels of Faber.

 

After the game, Jack fled to the loading dock, fighting the waves of panic until Shitty plopped next to him.  'It's my fault,' Jack murmured. He looked up anguish creasing his face. ''I told him I'd have his back... He told me he was uncomfortable with the play because of the hit Holts took from their goon.  And I told him I had his back.'

 

'Whaddya want me to say?' Shitty asked.  'You want me to say the kid got hit and it's hockey?  Okay, fine. The kid got hit. It's hockey.' His Bostonian accent broadened the more he spoke until the word  _ hockey _ sounded like  _ hahkey _ .  

 

‘I  _ know _ how he feels about getting hit,’ Jack mumbled. ‘And I let him down…. I let the team down,’ he added miserably, hunching his shoulders. 

 

'You're not the only one on the ice, brah,' Shitty pointed out.  'There were four other guys that coulda done something.' He bumped Jack's shoulder with his own.  'If anything the  _ team _ let Bitty down.'

 

'I  _ promised _ ,' Jack muttered.

 

Shitty sighed, knowing Jack would replay that play in his head over and over. There was little he could say to push Jack into a different train of thought.  ‘Murray says he’s gonna be fine. They took him to the hospital to get him checked out, scans...' Shitty scooted closer to Jack so his shoulder and thigh pressed into Jack's.  Jack would never admit it, but he needed the physical contact. 'Coach says he'll be in for a day or so. We can go and see Bitty tomorrow. Take him a nice mocha with extra whipped cream and chocolate drizzles.'

 

Jack tilted his head so it rested against Shitty's.  'He's never going to forgive me.'

 

'Yeah, he will.'

 

Jack wasn't so sure.  There was something behind Bitty's fear of taking a hit on the ice.  It had gotten a little better over the months Jack had forced Bitty out of bed at four in the morning to practice checking.  And now he was probably back at square one. 

 

Damn it.


End file.
